


Broken Angel

by Aini_NuFire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Castiel, Caring Sam Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s13e18 Bring 'em Back Alive, Gabriel stays, Gen, Hurt Gabriel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, I literally cannot stop myself, Tortured Gabriel, and additions, mild Cas whump, slight episode AU, some tweaks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 19:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire
Summary: A slightly different take on episode 13x18 with expanded h/c and alternate ending.





	Broken Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I got an anonymous ask on tumblr to write some h/c for Gabriel now that he's back. But after watching episode 13x18…well, I've definitely added some comfort to it (and added some more hurt), and this is all angst instead of fluffy (sorry anon!). But I fixed the ending so Gabriel doesn't leave.
> 
> Disclaimer: Lots of dialogue used from the episode; it's not mine. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading!

 

Sam had texted Cas to let him know what was going on. He figured it'd be easier that way, what with the multiple bombshells he had to drop. He should have known that wouldn't get him off the hook.

He had a platter with Gabriel's grace in hand and was heading down the hallway when Cas intercepted him, the angel practically radiating vexation. Sam hadn't even heard him get back.

"Dean is in Apocalypse world alone?" Cas said, tone biting with accusation as he immediately fell into step with Sam.

"Well, he's with Ketch, so he's not  _alone_."

Cas threw his arms up in the air. "Because that makes it  _so_  much better."

Sam huffed out a sound of frustration. He was annoyed, too. It wasn't like he was  _happy_  to let Dean go charging into Apocalypse world by himself, with  _Ketch_  of all people. "Cas, he wanted to go solo."

Cas shot him a disbelieving look. "And you  _let_  him?"

"I—" Sam exhaled an exasperated sigh and turned around in the hallway. "He didn't give me much of a choice." Dean never did. Cas of all people should be well familiar with that. "Anyways, Dean's right, as long as he's over there and we're here, we need to be taking care of Gabriel. Getting him right again."

Cas's expression hardened slightly, but he stopped chewing Sam out, so Sam turned to resume heading toward the room he'd left the wounded archangel in. It was completely dark when he opened the door.

"Gabriel?"

Cas flipped on the light switch, and Sam scanned the room, starting when he spotted Gabriel huddled behind the dresser, knees drawn up and head buried in them.

"You didn't tell me he was this bad," Cas said quietly.

Sam's chest constricted. "Yeah, well, years of isolation and torture, and Asmodeus draining his grace…" Gabriel had certainly been through the wringer, and while his condition made sense, it was still a shock to Sam every time he saw him. "C'me here, help me out."

He walked over and set the platter on the dresser, then moved around to the archangel's side. "Hey, Gabriel."

Gabriel didn't respond.

Sam started to bend down. "Hey." He touched the angel's shoulder, and Gabriel instantly flinched so violently that he knocked the dresser.

"Whoa, whoa!" Sam held his palms out to show he wasn't gonna hurt him. Which was silly, because weakened or not, Gabriel should still be able to take them if he truly wanted to fight back. Sam found he wasn't afraid of that, though. Not because he felt that Gabriel trusted them on some level—his current behavior didn't inspire much confidence—but Gabriel seemed so…broken. He was a wounded animal who'd learned not to fight back against his abusers. Sam's stomach twisted at the thought.

"Just…gonna get you to the bed, alright?" he said gently.

Cas bent down to take Gabriel's other arm while Sam carefully lifted him by the other. Gabriel made a strangled squealing sound behind tightly closed lips. Even after Sam had removed the stitches, he never opened his mouth. Like he'd forgotten how to.

They got him to the bed where he immediately tucked his legs up against his chest and started rocking, faint whimpers mewling in his throat. Cas kept a hand on his shoulder, but it didn't seem to be a comfort at all, and only agitated him.

"It's okay," Sam assured him, lowering himself down so they were eye level. "Gabriel, it's Sam Winchester. You remember me?"

Cas was leaning down and peering at Gabriel. "I don't think he does."

Sam pressed on. "Remember the video you sent to my brother Dean Winchester and me? After you…supposedly died. You told us how to stuff Lucifer back in the Cage."

He searched Gabriel's gaze earnestly for any glimmer of recognition, but Gabriel just continued to tremble, wild eyes darting around to avoid eye contact.

Cas made a small, exasperated sound. "Sam, he doesn't—"

"I know he doesn't." He stood up and gestured helplessly. "Just…trying to see if anything's going on in his head."

But the only thing Gabriel seemed capable of processing at the moment was whether the people around him were going to suddenly hit him. Or do worse.

"Right, well…" Sam took a step back to the dresser and lifted the lid of the serving platter. He picked up the tiny vial of swirling blue light. "Gabriel's grace. Ketch brought it. Maybe if he's juiced up, it'll help." He uncapped the lid and took a breath. "Alright."

He moved the vial toward Gabriel's mouth, but the archangel jerked away with a whimper. Sam bent down to be less threatening, but Gabriel still twisted his head away.

"Sam, I don't think he's gonna open up and let the choo-choo in."

Sam paused, and craned his head up to shoot Cas a look that said, 'seriously?'

"Technique for feeding recalcitrant children," he explained, then reached to take the vial from Sam. His expression turned grim. "I think a little coercion might be necessary," he said reluctantly.

Cas grabbed Gabriel's shoulder and leaned in. Sam grimaced, but reached to take Gabriel's jaw and get him to open up, but that sent the archangel into a fit. He squealed and flailed, knocking them both away, and with wild, animal-like cries in his throat, flipped over the back of the bed and scrambled into the corner behind the nightstand, cowering.

Sam gaped in bewilderment and dismay, and even Cas looked shocked.

That hadn't gone well.

"Okay," Sam breathed. "Maybe we should give him some space."

Cas's mouth turned down, but he wordlessly picked up the cap to the vial and secured it. Then the two of them backed out of the room, leaving to give the archangel some time to hopefully calm down and they could try something else later.

They made their way to the kitchen where Sam went to turn on the coffee machine. He hadn't gotten any sleep since Ketch had brought Gabriel to them, nor did he anticipate getting some anytime soon.

"You want some?" he asked Cas.

Cas had slumped into one of the chairs at the table, shoulders drooping with weariness and defeat. "Yes, thank you."

Sam made him a cup, too, and brought the mugs over to the table before taking a seat himself. They sipped from their cups silently for a bit, both needing time to process everything.

Sam sighed. "I can't believe he's still alive. All this time."

"Well, my brother is the master of faking his own death," Cas said with a touch of bitterness.

Sam grimaced.

"It's hard seeing him like this," he added after another moment. Sam knew what it was like to be tortured in Hell. The trauma had almost reduced him to Gabriel's current state. And it was because of that, that Sam wanted to help him overcome this.

Cas shook his head. "I know, it's…shocking, to say the least. Gabriel has his faults, but he doesn't deserve this."

Sam's throat constricted, and he took a long drag of coffee to wash down the suffocating emotions. He wasn't going to give up on Gabriel. Somehow, some way, he was going to help him get through this.

o.0.o

After finishing his coffee, Castiel decided to check on Gabriel again. Perhaps he would respond better to one presence at a time. But when Castiel opened the door, he found the room pitch dark again. He wondered why darkness would be preferable when it meant one couldn't see their enemies coming. But then, enemies wouldn't be able to see you.

He flipped the light on, and froze. Every inch of wall space was covered in Enochian writing. Castiel walked further into the room, roving his gaze around in dismay.

"Sam," he called.

Sam came jogging in, and pulled up short once his gaze took in the walls. "What is this? Did- did he do this?" he sputtered, looking at the scribbles. "Enochian?"

"It's his story," Castiel replied as he found the corner where the prose began with a theatrical sort of story opener. "Starts with his death. What appeared to be his death," he amended. He skimmed the lines and began to translate for Sam. "'Per usual, my brother had double my brawn and half my brains. He assumed the counterfeit is what vanished that night, and thought he'd stabbed the real thing. The truth is, the thing Luci skewered, was a fake.'"

Big surprise.

"'There were plenty of fakes to go around,'" he continued reading. "'Everyone believed Gabriel was gone. And suddenly, I was free. No obligation to God, or…Heaven, or mankind.'" Castiel felt a pang of bitterness toward his selfish brother, but pushed it down. "'And so I did what anyone would do. I moved to Monte Carlo and shacked up with porn stars'?" Castiel couldn't keep the uncertain inflection from his tone at the unexpected story twist. Or maybe not so unexpected.

Sam's brows rose and he flashed the mute archangel a dubiously exasperated look.

Castiel furrowed his brow as he studied the next section. "Well, he…" Castiel rolled his eyes. Figured. "He goes on and on for quite a while about porn stars and, uh—"

"Cas, please," Sam prompted with a grimace.

He shifted his gaze to over the door and other wall. "Okay, so Gabriel was captured, delivered to Asmodeus. 'For years I knew nothing but endless torture. Asmodeus, once the weakest of Hell's princes, grew strong…by feeding on my grace.'"

Castiel and Sam turned back to Gabriel, who remained unmoving on the bed.

"Well, obviously his intellect is intact," Castiel said.

"Yeah. So why isn't he talking to us?" Sam pondered aloud.

"I don't know. Maybe he can't." Maybe these rambling scripts were the only way Gabriel could express himself.

"Or maybe he's choosing not to," Sam said after a moment. "Maybe he thinks it's safer that way."

Castiel remembered what it was like to have his grace stripped away, how viciously violating it was, how the mind-numbing shock had felt as though his very self had been ripped apart. He hadn't thought about it before, but Metatron must have done something to repair some of the mental damage when he'd sent Castiel to Earth afterward.

He couldn't imagine how much worse it would have been to have his grace siphoned off bit by bit, to have one's self whittled down to fragments. No wonder Gabriel was in this state.

"Can you do anything?" Sam asked. "Angel-y, I mean?"

"No," Castiel said regretfully.

"Can't you at least try?" Sam pressed. "We don't exactly have much to work with."

Castiel suppressed a sigh, and went over to stand next to Gabriel. The archangel didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't react at all as Castiel placed one hand against his forehead while the other braced the back of his head. He closed his eyes in concentration, attempting to delve into Gabriel's mind.

He'd expected some resistance, either out of fear or defiance, but encountered neither. Just emptiness.

"It's not working?" Sam said tightly.

Castiel huffed. "I must reiterate, it's not possible for an angel to  _heal_  an archangel." He opened his eyes to find Sam pacing in agitation. "I'm just trying to jolt his mind into thinking straight."

But it wasn't working, so Castiel withdrew his hands.

"Even then, Sam… Gabriel…it's- it's possible that he's lost."

Castiel hated to admit it. As miraculous as Gabriel's return was, as beneficial as his help would be with the looming invasion, Castiel had to be practical. If he let himself be anything else…he already knew what that weakness would do to him. He had to be strong for those he  _could_  save.

Sam's throat bobbed and his eyes wavered, like he was getting too choked up to breathe. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked out.

Castiel couldn't help but feel like he'd failed Sam. Like he was constantly failing the Winchesters.

He glanced down at Gabriel, who continued to stare staunchly out at nothing. His shoulders sagged, and Castiel silently went to the sink. There was a basin on the shelf, so he took it down and filled it with water, then grabbed a towel from the rack. He carried both back over to Gabriel and set them on the bed next to the rigidly still archangel.

Castiel watched him carefully as he soaked the towel and wrung it out. Then with slow, cautious movements, he brought the cloth to Gabriel's forehead and began to dab at the cuts there. At least Gabriel didn't flinch away or start mewling in terror.

Castiel gently wiped away the grime and dried blood. Too bad he couldn't wipe away the pain and trauma so easily.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," he said. "If I had known you were Asmodeus's prisoner…" Castiel cut off with a low growl. "But I didn't. Because you made me think you were dead. Again. Tell me why I should have a single ounce of pity for you. You abandoned Heaven. Abandoned your family. And don't think I've forgotten your unnecessary cruelty in the pocket dimension."

Castiel paused in his ministrations and gazed at his brother's granite expression. Of course the Trickster was unapologetic. About any of it.

Castiel sighed, and resumed tenderly dabbing at Gabriel's wounds. "I saw you a few years ago," he said more quietly. "You told me you faked your death, but that you'd come back to help me restore Heaven." His chest constricted at the memory. "But it turned out to be a deceit of Metatron's. A fabrication he used to try to manipulate me. Having you with me, though, even for just a short time and even though it wasn't real…it had been a long time since anyone from my family had chosen to stand by me."

Castiel stopped and bowed his head as grief welled up. Grief for what was, what might have been, and what would never be.

He gave himself a sharp shake. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. You probably can't hear me. Or at least have no idea who I am."

Castiel took a steeling breath, and reached for one of Gabriel's hands. The archangel still didn't stir, but docilely let Castiel gently clean around his fingers and under his nails.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore, though," Castiel added. "Sam and I are going to help you." Somehow.

He thought he felt a ping from Gabriel's grace, but when Castiel looked up to meet his eyes, there was nothing in them.

He pushed the grief he'd inadvertently unlocked aside, as it wouldn't serve him. Castiel silently finished cleaning up his brother and then stood to dump out the water and leave the towel in the sink. He didn't look back as he left the room, closing the door behind him, though he did linger in the hall to wait and see if Gabriel would shut the light off again.

He didn't.

o.0.o

Sam sat in silence, legs sprawled out from his chair, while Gabriel remained an unmoving fixture on the foot of the bed, knees drawn up in the same position he refused to unfurl from. He stared straight ahead with a stubborn set to his jaw. Sam didn't know which was worse—the terrified animal, or the stone-cold emptiness.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been sitting here, just trying to be a soothing, patient presence, for the past hour and a half. But the lack of change was frustrating him.

Sam finally got up to leave, but paused with his hand on the doorknob. Pursing his mouth, he suddenly turned back around and came right out and said,

"Gabriel, you have to dig yourself out of this hole."

Predictably, he got no response.

"Look, I know you think it's safer inside. No more torture, no more pain, no more…expectations. I've been there. You're nothing like your family. You sure as hell weren't like your dad. Me either." Sam looked at Gabriel with a beseeching gaze, willing the archangel to hear him.

"And just like you, I got out. Or, I thought I got out. But then…then my family needed me," he said earnestly. "And this is my life. No matter how many times I try to fight it, this is what I was put here to do. This is where I make the world a better place. And…sure, yeah, hookers and Monte Carlo sounds great, but your  _family_   _needs_  you. Jack, your nephew, needs you. The world needs you. We need you." Sam's chin wavered. "Gabriel, I need you!" he blurted.

He needed to believe that there was someone on their side who was powerful enough to actually make a difference, so they wouldn't fail this time. Because Sam kept losing too many people he loved, and he couldn't bear it anymore. And Gabriel was just as lost and alone as they were, so they could help him, too. He could have a place with them.

"So please, help us," Sam begged.

Gabriel didn't move, didn't blink, and Sam's eyes watered as he felt his last hope crumbling into dust. He nodded, because why did he expect differently? The universe never gave them a break.

He turned to leave, defeated, when a rough voice made him freeze.

"Porn stars."

Sam whirled back around in disbelief.

Gabriel still didn't move, but his gaze shifted to meet Sam's, and he said with all high-and-mighty pointedness, "They were porn stars, Sam." His eyes flashed blue.

Sam spluttered incredulously as he moved forward, but then Gabriel flinched.

"Sorry, sorry," he gushed, putting his hands up where Gabriel could see them. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Yeah- yeah, I know that," Gabriel replied shakily. "Guess I just have to…readjust." He scooted back a few inches to the center of the mattress and lowered his knees to sit cross-legged.

"I get it," Sam rushed to assure him. "Really, I do. I, uh, don't know if you kept tabs while you were with the, uh, porn stars…but when we threw Lucifer back in the Cage…I went with him."

Gabriel's brows shot upward. "You what now?"

"Cas got me out. Just, not right away. Anyway, I'm just sayin' I know what it's like to be tortured in Hell, and you're definitely entitled to needing some time to adjust."

Gabriel shook his head in dismay. "Well, gotta say, nice to see your little three musketeer troupe is still intact after all this time. Though, uh, where's Deano?"

Sam grimaced. "That's a long story. But yeah, the three of us are still out there saving the world. Team Free Will."

Gabriel arched a dubious brow. "Seriously?"

Sam huffed. "Dean coined it, not me."

But it was an apt name, and Sam felt a seed of hope beginning to sprout and take root. Because they'd just gotten one more member, and things were finally starting to look up.

"Uh," Gabriel said. "What was that about a nephew?"

o.0.o

Gabriel lifted the vial of his grace, feeling irrationally leery of taking it back. Asmodeus had extracted it from him and bottled it like some kind of commodity to inject himself with at his leisure. And from that point, Gabriel's grace had been warped and contaminated into something vile and unclean.

Not this bit, though. This bit hadn't been touched. And so he pushed down his fear and uncapped the vial, letting the grace begin to swirl up in search of a host. Gabriel inhaled with a gasp as the energy filled him with a zing and instantly settled. It was his. It belonged there.

He handed the empty vial to Castiel.

"Is it helping?" the other angel asked.

"I- I don't know." It'd been so long since he'd been able to tap into his power at all, and that little bit he'd just absorbed might as well have been a drop in an empty bucket the size of the Pacific Ocean for an archangel.

But while his powers may have been dormant, his senses weren't, and Gabriel side-eyed Castiel curiously. He could tell that the little angel's wings were broken and mangled, a fact that Gabriel found alarming. Why hadn't anyone helped Castiel mend his wings?

Gabriel didn't bring it up, though. In truth, he didn't know what to say to his younger brother after that outpouring earlier. And yes, Gabriel had heard him. No, he didn't feel guilty for faking his death and running off again.

Okay, maybe he felt a  _little_  bad for leaving Castiel in the lurch. But only because the kid hadn't really had any angel friends back then.

Didn't sound as though that had changed, either. Especially not with him taking Lucifer's offspring, of all things, under his wing.

Sam's phone vibrated, and he stepped away to take the call. "Hello?"

Gabriel tried feeling out his grace again, seeing if he could get it to stir, when the voice that sounded over the speaker in return sent a bolt of lightning through him.

"Samuel."

No, no, no.

"I hope you're having a pleasant day," Asmodeus drawled. "It's come to my attention that you boys have somethin' that belongs to me and I'd like it back."

A muscle in Sam's jaw ticked. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Oh, I believe you do. And I'm gonna give you one chance to return it to me. No harm, no foul."

Gabriel felt a whimper crawling up his throat. Of course he couldn't escape. How could he have thought he could escape?

Sam swallowed. "I'm hanging up."

"Do not hang up on me," Asmodeus snapped. "Gabriel is of no use to you in his current condition."

Gabriel flinched as he felt Castiel's eyes turn to him.

"Should you choose to resist me," Asmodeus went on. "I will have no choice but to take him by force. I will reduce you and that sad little bunker of yours to ashes." His voice calmed. "You got ten minutes to decide." And then with a more chipper tone, said, "Now you're gonna hang up."

The line beeped as it disconnected, and Sam flicked an anxious look at Gabriel.

Castiel reached out and grasped his shoulder firmly. "We won't let him take you."

Gabriel was quaking uncontrollably. Those two were no match for Asmodeus. Not with Castiel at half power— _again_ —and one human hunter, even one who defeated the Devil.

Gabriel felt what semblance of sanity he'd reclaimed start to crumble like sand through a sieve, and he did the only he could—he retreated into himself.

o.0.o

Sam made a quick round through the bunker, trying to get ready for the impending assault. Time was also running out on Dean's clock, which meant he could be returning any moment with Mom and Jack, and that could be disastrous if they stumbled through the rift into the middle of a fight. Not that Sam didn't wish for his brother's backup right about now.

He hurried back to Gabriel's room. Cas was standing guard in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched the archangel with a furrowed look.

"Alright," Sam said. "I did what I can to help with the bunker's warding, but who knows if it's enough. How's he?"

"I don't know."

Gabriel had been sitting cross-legged on the bed still, but with eyes squeezed shut and rubbing his temples nonstop. They'd lost him again the moment he'd heard Asmodeus's threat.

Gabriel suddenly ceased, and the lights flickered with an electric surge as the bunker's system audibly shut down. The emergency lighting came on, bathing them in dark red, and the alarm blared with harsh urgency. Gabriel made a strangled sound behind tightly shut lips and started to hyperventilate.

Sam's pulse spiked with adrenaline, and he exchanged a look with Cas as they moved away from the room and went to check the entrance.

The warding on the inner halls were pulsing angry red as they crept through the bunker, angel blades out and ready for attack. But despite the alarms, there was no sign or sound of anyone. Maybe Asmodeus was still trying to get in, and they could hold him off.

Sam and Cas made their way through the corridors cautiously, coming to the War Room. Sam craned his head up to look at the door, which was closed. Yet before he could feel a glimmer of hope that their warding was holding, movement out of the corner of his eye had him whipping around as demons came charging out.

Sam caught the one that lunged at him and flipped the mook onto the map table, then plunged his angel blade into the demon's sternum. The body's core lit up with orange flashes as it screamed.

Another demon tackled Sam from the side and sent him crashing against the consoles. A punch to the stomach winded him, and he heard blows being exchanged nearby. He struggled to get some leverage against the demon's strength, but the next moment, Cas came storming up behind the demon and grabbed him by the back of his clothes. The angel slammed him face first onto the console as Sam rolled away, and then flipped the demon around and planted a hand on his forehead. Searing white light exploded from within the demon's skull.

Sam took a moment to get his breathing under control while Cas let the body drop, insides smoking from divine smiting.

"Thanks," he said.

Cas gave a brief nod and scanned the demons they had taken down. Sam suddenly spotted Asmodeus on the stairs to the library, and opened his mouth to shout a warning, but the Prince of Hell flicked his index and pinky fingers at them, and they went flying into the control panel against one wall.

Asmodeus sauntered in. "Your warding wasn't designed for the likes of me, Samuel."

Sam managed to push himself up into a sitting position, straining with exertion as some invisible force held him pinned to the wall. He saw Cas do the same, the angel's jaw visibly clenched as he, too, was apparently stuck.

Asmodeus folded his arms behind his back casually. "I've come to claim what's mine."

As if on cue, two demons emerged from one of the back corridors, dragging Gabriel between them. Sam's heart dropped into his stomach at the pliant way Gabriel was letting himself be handled, though he was making distressed sounds in the back of his throat. When he saw Asmodeus, though, his eyes blew wide with terror, and he whimpered as the demon turned to stalk toward him.

"Ohh, I missed you, boy," he drawled with obvious glee. "I'm gonna have to punish you rather severely, I'm afraid."

Gabriel started to flail and make wild noises, but his captors held him securely. Asmodeus cocked his head, and the demons started hauling Gabriel up the stairs toward the door.

Sam fought harder to break free and get up, and he heard Cas making similar grunts as he struggled just as fervently. They couldn't let this happen.

Asmodeus turned back to them. "And as for you two." He flicked his wrist, and one of the angel blades on the floor flew up into his hand. "Castiel, you helped another piece of my property escape not too long ago. I'm still quite sore about that."

Cas glowered at the demon, cheeks puffing as he strained against the Prince of Hell's power. Sam's chest was compressing so tightly, he was finding it difficult to breathe.

"Now, your grace isn't as potent as an archangel's," Asmodeus began, pulling out an empty glass vial from his jacket. "But I bet it will still have a nice little kick."

Sam's eyes flew wide with horror. "No!" he grunted as Asmodeus knelt down and placed the angel blade to Cas's neck, the vial right below it. And then he started to carve, ever so slowly.

Cas let out a strangled cry as grace blazed forth from the cut. Sam clenched his fists in helpless fury.

And then there was a shout from the catwalk, and Sam whipped his gaze up just as one demon went plummeting off the side, and the other tumbled down the stairs. Asmodeus stopped with a frown, and turned toward the ruckus.

"Gabriel! What are you doin', son?"

Gabriel gripped the bannister, shoulders heaving, looking on the verge of collapse. Sam bit his lip, praying desperately.

"You know too well what I can do to you," Asmodeus threatened. "I  _broke_  you!"

Gabriel lifted his head, eyes glowing blue in the darkness and flashing red aura, like he was a devil out of hell himself.

"You're too weak!" Asmodeus raged.

Gabriel straightened abruptly, and even in the dark, Sam could suddenly see the matted locks of his hair no longer fell in wild waves around his face, but were smoothed back, revealing a healthy glow to his skin that steadily grew. The macabre scars around his lips had vanished, and Sam watched in shock as shadows of wings slowly spread out on the wall behind the archangel, an otherworldly light illuminating him from within.

Asmodeus let out a vicious snarl, and shot a ball of crackling blue plasma out of his hand, but Gabriel knocked it away like a gnat. He seethed down at the Prince of Hell.

"Not anymore."

Sam's heart soared at the triumphant declaration.

"Oh, by the way," Gabriel added darkly. "I always hated that dumbass suit."

He shot a hand out toward Asmodeus, and the demon went rigid. Smoke started sizzling up through his skin, and Gabriel's eyes glowed blue with wrathful intent. Asmodeus screamed as he burst into flames.

Sam flinched away from the searing heat, but a second later he let out a gasp as the force holding him released, and the demon disintegrated into ash and vanished. Gaping in stupefaction, he looked up at Gabriel, who stood with shoulders back and head high, an image of righteous retribution if Sam ever saw one.

He jolted with realization and scrambled toward Cas, who was shuddering against the panel with one hand pressed to the side of his neck. Blue light oozed out between his fingers, and Sam's stomach flipped with terror. He laid his hand over Cas's and added pressure. Could bleeding grace even be staunched?

Gabriel was suddenly in front of them in the wake of a light puff of air. "Easy, Castiel." He reached out two fingers to Cas's forehead, and in an instant, Cas sucked in a sharp gasp and his hand dropped away.

Sam let out a ragged breath of relief when he saw the slash mark was gone and grace was no longer seeping forth. He clasped Cas's shoulder and flicked a grateful look at Gabriel. "Thanks."

Gabriel's mouth was pressed into a grim line, and for a moment, they all just sat on the floor, still reeling from how harrowing that had been.

But they were alive. And the last Prince of Hell was dead. That was a win in Sam's book.

o.0.o

Gabriel studied himself in the mirror. With a flare of his grace, he'd repaired his vessel and conjured up a fresh set of clothes. The filthy rags, he'd thrown in the trash. Yet there was still a sliver of something in his reflection he didn't quite recognize. Something darker and haunted.

He finished buttoning up his carmine shirt, as though doing so could cover up the scars hidden just beneath the surface. He was the only one who saw them, anyway.

There was a knock on the door before it opened and Castiel poked his head in.

"You're still here," he blurted.

Gabriel arched a brow. "You thought I wouldn't be?"

Castiel looked uncomfortable. "The thought had crossed my mind."

"Yeah, well, mine too," he admitted. Especially after he'd gotten the low-down on Lucifer being free and Michael's douche-ier evil counterpart wanting to come play in the wrong sandbox. The last thing Gabriel wanted to do was get caught up in  _that_  drama.

And yet…he hadn't taken off.

Castiel bristled. "You cannot turn your back on your father's creation."

Gabriel's own hackles rose in indignation. "Castiel,  _my_  father turned his back on his creation. On  _his_  family." But then he sighed. "Seems to run in the family, doesn't it?"

Gabriel saw the spark of anger in Castiel's eyes, the tensing of his shoulders as he geared up for a fight, but Gabriel kept going before he could.

"I'm sorry I turned my back on Heaven, on the other angels. On you." Gabriel shook his head at himself, partly in remorse, partly in dismay that he was even saying this. "Maybe it's time to turn over a new leaf. Now that you guys have given me a redemption arc and all. Guess I should make something of it."

Castiel squinted at him suspiciously. "So, you'll help us?" he clarified.

Gabriel nodded as his gaze turned serious. "I'll help my little brother. And this nephew I apparently have."

Some of the tension bled out of Castiel's posture. "Thank you. And thank you for…" He gestured to his throat.

Gabriel shrugged. "You saved me first."

"You saved you."

Yeah, maybe.

Maybe they saved each other.

Maybe that's how they'd win.


End file.
